


Roman Holiday

by illusmeta



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Human AU, M/M, Prompt fill: Vacation in Italy and In an Airport, USUK Secret Santa 2015, airplane au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 12:59:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5586514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illusmeta/pseuds/illusmeta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a flight attendant, Alfred has seen people from all walks of life, families of all kinds. But on one of Hetalia Airways' last flights of the year, he meets one of the strongest little families in the world -- and falls for one of the most amazing men he's ever met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roman Holiday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gelatokitty](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=gelatokitty).



It was a pleasure to fly. To travel all around the world (Hetalia Airways had connections in almost every international airport), meeting new people, trying new things. Never having to settle for what was in front of oneself in lieu of finding greater things in some other country.

Alfred loved every moment of it: the sense of freedom, the constant movement. Five years after graduating college, and here he was, a flight attendant traveling the world, living the dream of all youth -- and getting paid for it, too. Granted, he only stayed in each country for a day at most and didn't get much time to stop between flights, but he was okay with that. Someday, if he found a particularly fascinating place to visit, he'd actually put all his saved vacation time to use.  

Eventually, he knew he would run out of adventures to have, that sooner or later he'd have the winding passages of the world's airports memorized. But he didn't think about that. It detracted from the world around him. (And besides, he reasoned, it was likely that by the time anything like that happened, space tourism would already be a thing and he'd be exploring Mars.) 

As of the moment, however, the world around him was almost painfully close. Sighing internally as yet another three-year-old's screams echoed throughout the tumultuous plane, he cursed the existence of long, drawn-out boarding procedures. Especially those requiring him to stand in the aisle, greeting passengers. Alfred was a naturally happy person, but it got more than a little wearing to smile for hours on end. 

He was pulled out of his reverie by a small tug at the back of his shirt. Turning quickly, he almost stumbled straight into his supplicant, a short, blond-haired little boy clutching a green backpack. "Sorry, mister, but can you help me find row 13?" He asked, not a hint of shyness evident in his voice. "My brother said to meet him there, but he's not there and I think I'm in the wrong seat." 

Alfred smiled encouragingly. Kids on a flight were generally a bad idea, but this one seemed exceptionally well-behaved, especially for such a young age. "Alrighty then. Do you mind if I see that ticket?" 

He scanned the slip quickly, then nodded, glancing around him. "Well, you're actually seated...right back there. Maybe your brother's still on his way or something." 

The little boy nodded seriously, spine straightening slightly. "When Artie gets here, I'll make sure he knows that I beat him," he declared, plopping down on the window seat and dropping his bag on the ground. 

"Hmm." It seemed rather irresponsible that some parents had just left the kid and his brother on the plane alone. "Hey, buddy, where're your parents? How old's your brother?"

"My parents are dead." Seeing Alfred's startled expression, he added (in a disconcertingly matter of fact tone), "They've been dead since I was little. Artie doesn't like talking about it, but I know it's true."

"...Right. That really sucks." 

Peter regarded Alfred calmly, kicking at the mid-cabin door in front of him. "It's not so bad. Artie is really, really old, and he acts like both a mom AND a dad at once, anyway," he added, scrunching up his freckled nose. 

As if on cue, a voice cried out "Peter!" and a (similarly blonde, clearly worried) man came squeezing through the aisle to their row, pushing past Alfred. "Oh, thank God you got here in one piece. I'm so sorry I left you on your own," he fussed, seemingly oblivious to Alfred's presence. Watching the proceedings, including a 20-something year old man worry over an eight year old boy like a mother hen, Alfred couldn't help but grin.

"I found my way here basically on my own, Artie," Peter grumbled. "I'm almost nine years old!" His words only seemed to make his brother hold on tighter. He threw Alfred a long-suffering look over his brother's shoulder as if to say, "see what I mean?" 

Finally, "Artie" noticed Alfred's presence, standing up hurriedly and brushing himself off. His eyes locked on Alfred's, and Alfred was startled by their intensity. "I'm sorry about the trouble. It's just that...this is the first flight Peter's been on and I just..." He wrung his hands (nervously?), finally tucking them behind his back and lapsing into silence. 

"Hey, it's nothing! I get paid to do this. And Peter here seems like a pretty smart kid. You know that, right, Peter?" 

Peter stared at Alfred from his seat, blue eyes surprisingly shrewd for an eight-year-old. "Of course I am. I'm going to work for NASA when I grow up. I'm going to engineer the best rockets and I'll be the first astronaut on Mars. I have to be smart." 

Alfred perked up. "Hey, I've always wanted to be an astronaut, too! Tell you what -- when you lead the first manned mission to Mars, I can help you out on board. Like a flight attendant, but in space." 

Peter regarded Alfred calmly, then glanced back at Arthur. "I'll think about it." A soft chuckle burst from Arthur before he could cover his mouth. 

"That's the spirit!" Alfred grinned, relieved that the silent man behind Peter had shown some reaction. "In the meantime, wanna take a tour of the cockpit? I've been told it's not that different to the controls of a space shuttle, you know." Pilots Yao and Kiku had stopped giving tours of the cockpit after diminished interest, but he was sure they'd make an exception. He was rewarded with a warm, endearing smile from Arthur and furious nodding from Peter. 

The cockpit was small and cramped behind its heavy curtain. Yao and Kiku were both nowhere to be seen (probably going over safety procedures for the final time that night), but he knew enough about the flight controls to explain them. Arthur trailed behind, watching carefully. 

As Peter marveled over the carefully-crafted interior of the cockpit, Alfred turned to Arthur. "Sorry if this is too intrusive -- I mean, I know it's none of my business -- but how long have you and Peter been together?" 

He was surprised when Arthur answered readily. "It's been three years now, but this is the first time we've had the chance to go on vacation since. I'd almost forgotten the plane protocols, not that the security manuals are at all forgettable." Alfred expected a smile when he turned around, but Arthur's face was carefully composed. 

"Really? I'd always assumed that nobody read those! Guess that means we won't be needing all those safety announcements at the beginning of every flight, then," he teased, trying to lighten the tension in the small space. Arthur smiled politely then, but only for a moment. There was no response. 

"Err...oh! Right. Speaking of flight protocol, you guys were sitting in an exit row, so in case of an emergency, you'll need to be prepared to help with evacuation procedure. Do you...have any medical conditions that might stop you from helping the crew?" He sized Arthur up. He was of average-low height, seemed fairly fit (focus, he reminded himself when his gaze fell down to Arthur's slim torso), and seemed more than mentally sound. 

For a moment, Arthur's face screwed up with uncertainty. "I...well, there's something..." He paused for a moment. "I...have epilepsy. Grand-mal. I go completely unconscious for short periods of time." He looked down, face blank. "It really isn't so bad. I can do most things, but under pressure... I just...want to be sure, is all."

"Ah. Well, that's alright. We'll get you guys moved to a different row before takeoff."

Another awkward pause. 

"My name's Alfred, Alfred F. Jones. Just so you know." 

"Yes. It's written on your name tag." 

"Ah. Right. Yeah. I mean--"

Arthur smiled then. Alfred was surprised by the genuine warmth in his eyes and the beauty in his smile. "I'm Arthur Kirkland. You already know Peter," he added, glancing at the young boy, now crawling over the pilot's seat to see the controls. 

Another awkward pause. This time, not quite so awkward -- to Alfred, at least. Arthur's -- and Peter's, he reminded himself -- presence in the silence felt warm, almost comfortable. 

"So. Rome. Great choice for a first family trip, hm? Was there any specific reason?" Alfred asked.

"Our parents used to take us to Rome a lot. Had business associates there, actually. They called it the city of love. Paris, of course, couldn't hold a candle to it." He gave a short laugh, and Alfred didn't even have to look at Arthur to know his eyes were misting over. Strange, how well he could predict such things, since he'd met the man exactly ten minutes ago. 

"Well, Rome is a pretty popular destination. Got a lot of cultural attractions, not that I've ever been. I mean, I have been, but-- never been. What's it like?" 

"You've never been?" Arthur's face brightened visibly. And then he smiled. A full, warm, genuine smile, so bright that Alfred felt his heart bounce in his chest. "Well, it's quite possibly the most beautiful city on earth -- even more so than London, and I live there -- the architecture is flawless, especially all the Renaissance work, and there's just so much history--" 

Watching Arthur's excitement grow, Alfred instinctively leaned in. Closer, closer, until their noses were almost touching. The other man didn't even seem to mind, angling his face upwards and continuing his explanation. For a moment the world was a blur, Arthur's voice the only thing that mattered. 

"Are you two going to kiss or something?" Peter, now finished examining the buttons arrayed on the dashboard, regarded them calmly, childish disgust written clearly in his tone. With a jolt, Alfred realized just how close he'd gotten to Arthur's face. Arthur seemed to realize the strangeness of the situation too, pulling back so fast he almost hit his head on the back wall. 

Alfred stood quickly, wincing as his head bonked against the top of the plane. "Um. Sorry about that." His eyes widened. "I almost forgot! I've gotta make an announcement before takeoff. Sorry to cut this short, but..." He backed away quickly, blushing a little from his previous proximity. "I gotta run." 

"Ah." Arthur looked a little dazed. "I see. And about the seating issue?" 

"I'll get you both moved so you can still sit with Peter," promised Alfred. "Actually-- head over to Eliza over there -- she'll get you sorted out." 

He strode past, stopping to give Peter a parting high-five, and reached for the intercom mic. 

"Thank you for flying with Hetalia Airways. This is a non-stop flight from New York to Rome. If you think you may be on the wrong flight, please disembark immediately." (A few muted chuckles.) 

He sped through the safety announcements, all the while thinking of the brilliant smile on Arthur's face. 

Rome, here we come. 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the USUK Secret Santa 2015! Mostly unedited. As usual. 
> 
> Also, the fic has nothing to do with the movie Roman Holiday. I just needed a title.


End file.
